Chicken noodle soup
by Ambyrawrawr
Summary: Mello's sick. It's up to Matt to coax him into bed.  Fluff.  Prize fic for lozzy035


**A.N.**

**So this is a present fiction for lozzy035 for being my 200th reviewer on Opposite ends of the spectrum.**

**She wanted something sweet and I think I may have done it o.o' I hope.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note**

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><p>"Mello, get back into bed <em>now<em>." Matt stated firmly, gently pushing the blonde back towards the bedroom ignoring the whine that spilled from his lips.

"I can't, I have work…" Mello mumbled, reaching from his jacket which was promptly moved from his grasp by Matt.

"I'm doing your work from home. Go back to bed." Matt sighed exasperated. After driving through the rain in nothing more than his leather midriff shirt and pants it was hardly surprising that Mello now had a fever and as usual he was refusing to go to bed and rest. His cheeks were flushed a mottled red and his hair stuck to his face with sweat.

"I can't, Matt stop fucking with me and give me my coat!" He argued, almost stamping his foot against the hardwood floor in aggravation, clutching the faux granite worktop as his other leg wobbled dangerously.

"You're sick. Last time you were sick you worked through your A levels then passed out in the halls afterwards and I had to drag you back to the room because Roger was out shopping and all the other kids were scared to touch you."

"Fuck you! I need to go to work, what if today's the day we catch Kira huh? And what if I miss it because I'm in bed with a little cold?" Mello mumbled, rubbing his head to try and dispel the increasingly intensifying headache.

Matt sighed and slipped his arm around Mello's neck and the other around his knees, easily picking him up from the floor, carrying him bridal style back to the bedroom, much to the protests of the blonde, who despite his illness was still as feisty as ever. Gently placing him onto the mattress, he pulled the duvet up around him before he could squirm back out and run for it. "If you stay in bed I'll make you soup."

Mello stopped straining against him, his back meeting the bed with a soft thump. "But you never make soup…" He murmured.

"I will if you stay in bed." Matt bargained. Before his mother died, she had taught him how to make chicken noodle soup, exactly like she made it for him when he was sick. After she died Matt had only made it a few times as he preferred not to relive his experience again. On the rare occasion Matt did make it he allowed Mello to try it. It was suffice to say that the blonde liked it immensely and arguments happened when Matt tried to explain that he probably wouldn't make it again for a long time.

Slipping a cold damp cloth onto Mello's forehead he felt him relax under the touch and settle back into the pillow. "Fine. But you're making a big pot."

Matt rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. "You leave that bed for anything other than the bathroom or a refill on water and I'll get rid of it and you're chocolate. Understand?"

Mello nodded quietly, moving his fringe out of the way of the cloth. With a quiet sigh, he pulled the quilt up to his shoulders. Work could wait for a while.

Mello awoke to the gentle shaking of his shoulders. "Wake up." He heard Matt murmur, feeling the bed dip slightly as Matt perched himself on the spot next to the pillows.

"Whaaa…" Mello grumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"You dozed off. I've got your soup." Matt replied, waiting for Mello's eyes to open before placing the warm bowl on his lap. He watched Mello carefully to make sure he didn't overturn the bowl as the blonde lazily lifted the spoon to his mouth and devoured the soup.

"You really should make this more." Mello told him between mouthfuls. Matt simply shook his head, wiping away the trace of soup on Mello's cheek with his thumb.

"Messy." Matt grinned.

Mello smiled and held up the empty bowl. "More. Now." He demanded. Matt took the crockery and headed back to the kitchen to ladle out another bowl and Mello leaned back into the plush pillows. Licking his lips he watched as Matt returned with the bowl and placed a soft kiss to his forehead. Yes, maybe he should allow himself to be sick more often.

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><p><strong>A.N. Want a good song? Gay pirates by Cosmos Jarvis. <strong>

**It makes me happy.**


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